Hamlet: The Courtier of Coffee
by Scatch
Summary: Hamlet is a barista at Starbucks, and his cynical attitude is forever changed when he meets Horatio. Opal, who has been in love with Hamlet, suffers a major break down and her life spirals out of control.
1. Chapter 1

The Starbucks was bustling with the mid-day crowd. A line filled with caffeine junkies and exhausted business men grew serpentine into the street. A platinum haired barista busily blended drinks and barked over the roaring of the machines, "I've got a caramel frap with soy for," he squinted at the name hastily scribbled on the plastic cup, "Sophia?"

"That's me! Excuse me, that's mine!" A woman squeezed herself through the crowd. "Thank you! Finally!" she glowered at him and stomped back into the mass of people.

"You're welcome, bitch," the barista mumbled under his breath.

"Fort!" he hollered, "Can I get some help out here?"

An olive skinned boy came through the back .

"The fuck do you need, Ham," he hissed, his green eyes narrowing to slits.

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe i need you to actually do your damn job? I am getting slaughtered out h- I'll be there in just a minute ma'am!" Hamlet wiped his hands and glared, "Get off your ass Fort."

Hamlet brushed bast the now pouting Fort, and began to take orders.

"Hello, welcome to Starbucks," Hamlet sighed with faux cheer, not looking away from his register, "How may I-"

"Hey, Hammy!"

Hamlet felt dread in the pit of his stomach. only one person called him that.

Opal.

Opal had been his neighbor and family friend since before either of them could speak. Both her father and Hamlet's step-father had been friends since their college years. Meaning she was always around. She used to have deep brown hair, the kind of brown you'd only see within the deep reaches of the forest, but ever since Hamlet went platinum, she felt she had to change too. To blonde, so that "they would match".

"You should get your roots done," Hamlet tapped aggravated,"They're starting to show." Which was very much an understatement, it was apparent that she had not kept up with bleaching.

"Move along little leach," he sneered, "I'm trying to work here. Next please!"

"Aw, Hammy," she whined, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

Hamlet looked at her with dull eyes. Opal brushed her bleached bangs from her eyes and smiled wide, her blue contacts shining in the fluorescent lighting. Hamlet grimaced. Opal tried to lean over the counter, pushing her breasts together with a pout on her lips.

Hamlet pushed her away. "I'm just going to ring up your usual."

"Thanks, Hammy," she grinned, "I'll see you for dinner!"

Hamlet sighed, "Thank God that's over." He grabbed a clear plastic cup and began writing Opals order. He knew it by heart, bring that she had become a regular since his first day on the job.

"I'll be with you in a minute," he said absentmindedly, to which the consumer replied "Please, take your time."

Hamlet looked up and smiled, and was met by the most dazzling pair of hazel eyes he had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

Hamlet looked up and smiled, and was met by the most dazzling pair of hazel eyes he had ever seen. He dropped the cup, which before held his utmost attention.

"S-so sorry about that," Hamlet scrambled to pick up the cup. The tan handsome stranger smiled and laughed, "Don't worry about it." Hamlet laughed cautiously, his mouth suddenly dry. "What can I- uh- get for you?"

"Could I get a venti iced green tea? Lots of sweetener, please."

"Right, ah, good," Hamlet reached for a cup, accidentally knocking a few over. He cursed under his breath, the stranger smiled.

"Can I get a name for this order?"

"Of course," he winked, "It's Horatio."

Hamlet felt the back of his neck grow warmer as he wrote the name Horatio onto the plastic.

"That's a nice name," Hamlet smiled up at him, trying to ignore the heat climbing to his face. Horatio laughed, brushing a lock of his long hair behind his ear.

"Well thank you," he said, searching to see a name tag, "Thank you very much," he smirked, "Hamlet." Hamlet looked down, fumbling with the cup in his hands.

"How much debt am I in?" Horatio joked.

"Nothing, on the house," Hamlet quickly replied, tapping away on the register. Horatio raised an eyebrow, "Oh?" he mused. Hamlets face was aflame.

"If you'll just wait here a minute I can get your drink out right now," Hamlet quickly turned his back as to avoid Horatio's quiet laughter. He clumsily made the tea, almost dumping the matcha on the floor. As Hamlet was putting the finishing touches on the drink, he scribbled his phone number onto the cup. Hamlet handed the cup to Horatio, careful to accent the digits he had written there.

Horatio, to the fortune of Hamlet, noticed the numbers and chuckled, "I suppose I'll have to come by this Starbucks more often."

Hamlet smiled wide and ran his fingers back through his hair, but his reply was cut short by a shrill voice.

"Hammy! Where is my drink?" Opal was leaning over the espresso machines an annoyed look on her face. Fort popped up from behind the counter, holding Opals drink.

"You haven't paid yet," Fort spat, "If you want your drink, you'll have to pay."

"Hammy, you didn't pay for me?" Opal sulked, crossing her arms.

"No, Opal why in hell would I do that?" Hamlet stared at her blankly. He motioned to Fort, "The drink is yours if she won't."

"Glad I got such good, good service from you," Horatio gloated, casting a side glance to Opal, "Thanks Hamlet." Hamlet blushed a deep crimson and Opal gasped, stricken with shock. Fort laughed obnoxiously as Horatio walked away, winking at Hamlet, and raising an eyebrow to Opal.

Opal stomped her foot and glared daggers at Hamlet.

"I'll see you at dinner," her words full of hurt, she stormed out.

"Thanks for the drink, Ham," Fort laughed and skulked off to to back room.

Hamlet sighed. The coffee shop was nearly empty now, the afternoon rush was over.


	3. Chapter 3

Hamlet sighed. The coffee shop was nearly empty now, the afternoon rush was over.

It was now around seven o'clock, and a light drizzle from the grey clouds outside was starting to turn into a heavy rain.

"I'm off, see you tomorrow Fort," Hamlet hung his apron and grabbed his keys from his cubby. Fort was slouched on a stool reading some pretentiously thick novel. He grunted and nodded his head as Hamlet rushed out into the rain. He jogged quickly over to his black Impala.

"I don't know why I didn't check the weather this morning," Hamlet thought to himself, his black shirt was completely saturated and clung tightly to his torso. Hamlet started his car and turned on the radio to drown out the near deafening clamor of the rain. He pulled out into the street and began his drive home.

Hamlet walked into the front door, carefully closing it behind him, as to not alert his family of his presence. He briskly walked over to the stairs and was about half way up them, when the front door opened again.

Hamlet froze.

A booming laugh filled the house. It was Paul.

Paul was good friends with Hamlets late father, and even better friends with Hamlet's now step-father, Claude. Paul, Claude and Hamlet's father had all gone to college together, and in turn they had all worked at the same company, Denmark Inc. Hamlets father had been the President and CEO until his untimely passing. Claude and Paul were also in very high ranking positions, and Claude had recently been promoted to President, in place of Hamlet's father.

Paul also happened to be the father of Laers, a long time acquaintance of Hamlet, and Opal.

Hamlet sprinted up the stairs, almost slipping at the top. He ran up the hall and to his room and closed the door behind him. Breathing hard, he rested against his door. Opal's shrill laugh echoed up the stairs, Hamlet grimaced.

Every Thursday, Hamlet's family invited their neighbors, Opal's family over for dinner. This had happened every Thursday since Hamlet's fathers' funeral, and Claude's inconveniently timed marriage to Gertrude, Hamlet's widowed mother.

Hamlet felt his cell phone buzz.

[From: Opal]

[To: Hamlet]

[Where are you? I saw your car out front! You can't hide from me Hammy baby :*]

Hamlet cursed to himself, "I should have parked in the back."

Hamlet flipped on the light, and proceeded to change out of his soggy work clothes. His phone buzzed again. And again. And again. He checked, all from Opal. Hamlet rolled his eyes and slipped on an emerald green sweater. He paired it with some ripped black denim jeans and a pair of black leather Oxfords.

He glanced in the mirror. He slicked back his platinum blonde hair. His cobalt blue eyes stared back at him. He sighed, "Into the mouth of the wolf."

Hamlet trudged down the stairs, and into the dining room.

"So glad you decided to join us, Hamlet," a grumbling voice called from across the room. Hamlet looked up to meet the icy eyes of his step-father. Claude smiled, but it seemed sinister.

"Dinner is served."


End file.
